fine day, whistling a merry tune, and wondering if he would meet any of
his friends, with whom he might have a game of ball. He had a baseball
with him, and he was very fond of playing. I just wish you could have
seen him stand up on his hind legs and catch balls in his mouth. It was
as good as going to the best kind of a moving picture show. Perhaps some
day you may see Bawly.

Well, as I said, he was hopping along, tossing the ball up into the air
and catching it, sometimes in his paw and sometimes in his mouth, when,
all of a sudden he heard a funny pounding noise, that seemed to be in
the bushes.

“Gracious, I wonder what that can be!” exclaimed Bawly, looking around
for a good place to hide.

He was just going to crawl under a hollow stump, for he thought perhaps
the noise might be made by a bad wolf, or a savage fox, sharpening his
teeth on a hard log, when Bawly heard some one say:

“There, I’ve dropped my hammer! Oh, dear! Now I’ll have to climb all the
way down and get it, I s’pose.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound like a wolf or a fox,” thought Bawly. “I guess
it’s safe to go on.”

So he didn’t hide under the stump, but hopped along, and in a little
while he came to a place in the woods where there were no trees, and,
bless you! if there wasn’t the cutest little house you’ve ever seen! It
wasn’t quite finished, and, in fact, up on the roof was Uncle Wiggily
Longears, the old gentleman rabbit, putting on the shingles to keep out